


The Stars Keep On Calling My Name

by kid_from_yesterday



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Depressed Thomas, Gay Male Character, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Newt is Very gay, Newt is a sweetheart, Protective Minho, Protective Newt, Thomas is a poor bi soul, Thomas is close to suicide and Newt saves him, destinies and such, major trigger warning for suicidal thoughts sorry, newtmas - Freeform, nothing works out for thomas until newt comes along, real life AU, stuff goes quite fast sorry, teresa is The GOAT, thomas deserves the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kid_from_yesterday/pseuds/kid_from_yesterday
Summary: TW: Suicidal thoughts/almost actions. Thomas is desperate for something to go right in his trainwreck of a life. He aches for an end to it all, and after an awful day, he finally decides to do it. Before he can commit suicide, he meets a boy who convinces him that he's interpreting his destiny wrong. This strange boy, Newt, coaxes Thomas off his ledge and convinces him that the stars Thomas thinks are beckoning him are actually telling him something different. Title based on the song by Mac Demarco.





	1. I-Unfair

 

     Life for Thomas was unfair. Nothing ever seemed to work out the way he wanted to; his parents never bothered to talk to him, even before he moved out of the house; his friends had all gone away to college after telling him that they hated him; he had caught his girlfriend cheating on him with his roommate, and then she claimed that she had only been using him for the sex. After coming out as bisexual to his parents when he was visiting home from college, they kicked him out of the house. They said that they couldn’t live with the fact that they had raised him to be a fag.

     He had gotten a full ride to Columbia University, and even though it was his dream school right outside of New York City, his classes made him miserable. His only friend and roommate, Minho, had promised that everything would sort itself out, that he’d end up okay. After all, he did have a job interning for WCKD that paid pretty well, even if the company was corrupt, and he was the top of his class; what company wouldn’t want to hire him? Thomas didn’t really find much solace in Minho’s remarks, as job security wasn’t exactly what he worried about. He worried about never being able to lift himself out this pit of depression and despair he had dug for himself. He appreciated Minho’s efforts, even if they were in vain, and Minho’s girlfriend (or maybe she was just a friend, either way, Thomas didn’t know) Theresa promised him that she was just like him when she was a freshman, that it would get better. She suggested seeing the school counseling office to see if she could set him up with a therapist of some sort, but Thomas refused to see one. He could deal with these things on his own.

     Today was especially unbearable for Thomas. Nothing had gone right. He woke up late and didn’t have time to eat breakfast, but it’s not like he usually did. He never really ate anymore. He was almost late to class, and since he can’t seem to sleep anymore, he nearly fell asleep; he barely heard any of the lectures either way. After class, when he went to make his way to the WCKD building in which he worked, but quickly realized that he had left his ID badge locked in his room. He had called his supervisor about this, who promptly yelled his ear off for about two minutes. When he had reached his shared apartment, he walked in on Minho and Theresa getting extremely intimate. He quickly grabbed his badge before running out, red-faced. After making it to his work finally, the rest of the day continued on with each inconvenience worse than the last.

     He finally made it back to his apartment as the sun was setting. Minho apologized for earlier, but Thomas tuned it out. He muttered some excuse, walked out of their apartment, and made his way to the stairwell of their complex. He walked several flights until he was on the roof, gazing at the slow traffic of New York City in the distance. He took a deep breath of somewhat clean air and subsequently burst into tears.

     He couldn’t handle his own life. Everything was falling apart all around him. He walked over to where a ledge at the edge of the roof was. It faced the West, the glare of the sunset the main attraction. It flashed the sky with a beautiful collage of orange and pink and red. Too bad he was going to leave it behind soon. The ledge on the roof came up about three feet and had a tall railing on top of it. What strange architecture, thought Thomas. He wondered if anyone had tried to jump off like he was planning to. He sat down on the ledge, his legs dangling over the ground around, which looked like miles below him. He rested his arms on one of the rungs of the railing, letting his chin fall on top of where they lay.

     The sunset spoke to Thomas, coaxing him to join it in the sky; to dance with it in the bright colors of heaven; to play their games as his skin slowly shifts from tan to orange to pink to red and then finally to the dark blue of the night sky. He swung his legs back over so that the sat on the floor of the roof again. He sat for a second, pondering whether his seconds of weightlessness before inevitably dying would be worth it. He couldn’t bear another day. He stood up, stepping one foot on the ledge. Then the other. His heart beat faster than the speed of sound as he stood behind the railing of the ledge, gazing down at the people walking below him. People were walking home to their families. Some were about to see their kids, or significant others, or parents after a long day. Some were having dinner. Some were starting their day. None of them realized that a man was going to die in front of their eyes today.

     Thomas leaned on the railing. The sky had grown dark, but the lights of New York kept the area around him bright. He marveled at the sight of it all. He stepped one foot onto the second rung. He was so close. He was too busy listening to the wind rush past his ears as his eyes glazed over to see that someone had walked up on the roof.

     “God, at last--bloody hell! Mate!” The lilt of a British voice shook Thomas from his twisted reverie. Thomas stepped down from the second rung of the railing onto the ledge, turning his back to the city below him.

     “Who are you?” Thomas asked, defensive. He cursed his shaky voice and likely tear-stained cheeks. “What are you doing up here?”

     “I was coming up to have a smoke, my boyfriend was pissing me off. This is where I usually come to cool down.” He waved a cigarette to demonstrate. The British man’s voice was gentle, careful. It sounded like he was tiptoeing around Thomas, careful not to set him off.

     “Were you--” He stopped briefly. “Were you about to jump?” His voice now laced with concern; the wind whipped his blonde hair in front of his eyes, which looked worried and scared.

     “I, uh,” Thomas said. “Uh, y-yeah, I was.” Thomas didn’t move from his spot on the ledge. He planted his feet. He had decided his fate. This pretty boy wasn’t going to stop him.

     “Oh.”

     Thomas moved his left foot back onto the first rung, slowly bringing the other one up to meet it. “You might want to leave.” Thomas’s eyes glazed over once again. Determination soaked with bitter sadness dripped out of every pore on Thomas’s body, coating the air in a thick musk of melancholy. The blonde boy could practically taste the suicide that would approach; the metallic pang of blood on his tongue, the loss of another pretty face, the sound of increasing numbers clacking against the computer screen of a suicide awareness website. He couldn’t let that happen.

     “I’m bloody well not leaving until you’re down from that ledge and safe, either with me or in your home with someone you’re comfortable with.”

      This response surprised Thomas. His brows furrowed in confusion. Why did this someone have an interest in him? He probably didn’t want to see some poor kid die while he was trying to take his smoke break.

     “Why the fuck do you care if I die? I don’t even know you.” Thomas said, coldly. “Can’t you hear it? The stars are calling my name! They want me to join them, want me to run among them, want me to die with them!”

     The blonde man pondered for a moment. “I hear something different.”

     A strange response. “Excuse me?” said Thomas.

     “I am hearing the same stars that you are, but they’re not calling your name because they want you to go and be with them, but because they want you to live to continue to be able to see them.” Blonde Boy stopped for a second. “They want you to experience life. ‘You’re young!’ they’re saying. ‘Find true love, explore the world, do what you want to do, just don’t die without finally being happy.’”

     Thomas lowered down to the ledge. “We might be hearing different stars.”

     “All stars are the same stars, love. I once misinterpreted their message too. I was convinced that no one would ever love me, that I was destined to fail, that everyone hates me for who I am. But then they said to me...”

     Thomas was crying. “W-what d-did they s-say?” He couldn’t see anything through his tears.

     “Come over to where I am and I’ll tell you.” This boy was clever. Thomas didn’t quite fall for it at first.

     Thomas scowled through his tears. “F-fuck no. This is where my destiny led me. This is the end of my story.” As hot tears streamed down Thomas’s cheeks, he whipped around to face the lights of the city once again. They didn’t look as inviting now as they did before. Suddenly, Thomas felt a hand grip his arm. He glanced over his shoulder to see Blonde Boy, his brown doe eyes staring back into Thomas’s own dead ones.

     “I can guarantee that this is not your destiny; if you come down to where I am, I can tell you what the stars told me my and your destiny was.”

     Thomas thought for a second, still gazing into Blonde Boy’s face. His cigarette lay dejected on the ground, his original purpose for coming to the roof abandoned. Finally, Thomas broke down. He jumped into the unsuspecting arms of Blonde Boy, sobbing hot tears into his hoodie. Blonde Boy was quickly wrapping his back around Thomas, bringing the brunette in closer, as if holding on for dear life.

     “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Thomas cried, a chorus of more apologies pouring out of his mouth like water from a spilled cup.

     “It’s alright, darling, really, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Blonde Boy pulled away from Thomas, bringing his hands to Thomas’s cheeks, wiping away the tears. “I’m Newt, alright? Now let’s go back downstairs, okay, and I’ll tell you what the stars told me. Now, Starboy, can you tell me your name?”

     Thomas chuckled sadly, the weight of this sound hanging in the air. “My name is Thomas.”

     “Okay, Thomas, let’s go down to my place, okay? Is that alright? I’m on the seventh floor.”

     Thomas nodded softly, and off he went to Newt’s apartment to learn the secret the stars had bestowed to him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> newtmas!! yay!!  
> this chapter's title is a song by the neighbourhood that makes me feel a lot of things which is why i chose it.  
> anyways, pls comment suggestions or something, i've been on a writing spree for some newtmas stuff and i need validation desperately  
> hope you enjoy  
> \- ry


	2. II - The Worst Guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Thomas talk at Newt's apartment, and they hash out their feelings until they get distracted. Chapter title via the song "The Worst Guys" by Childish Gambino.

     Thomas sat uncomfortably in a plush chair in the middle of Newt’s living room. Newt brought over a blanket and a cup of some sort of tea. Thomas took a sip. It was lemon, his favorite. He didn’t bother to question how Newt knew this. It was cold in the apartment as if frozen in time; each piece of trash on the floor or pillow that lie on crooked on the old couch was part of a painting that couldn’t and shouldn’t be interrupted. 

     “Bloody boyfriend, first leaves a fucking mess for me to clean up and now is probably out shagging some bloke he found off the streets,” Newt grumbled, straightening up the apartment. “Sorry, it’s such a mess.”

     “No, no, you’re fine, mine is worse because I don’t have the time to clean up anymore.”

     Newt threw some trash out and then sat on a chair right next to Thomas. “Now, Tommy, where were we? Right, right. You’re going to think I’m a little bit mad, but when I tried attempting suicide a few years ago, just the way you were going to, before I could jump I heard a voice. I didn’t recognize this voice, and I had no idea where it was coming from, but I just decided that I should wait to jump off this building and listen to it. So I stepped down from the railing and sat on the ledge with my legs dangling over the street below. The voice tells me this: ‘Now is not your time to go, Newt. You have something waiting for you. Someone waiting for you. You won’t know it at the time, but you will know when you find him. You will know immediately. Don’t waste your life, Newt, your destiny is not to die now. Wait until he comes. You will die in tandem with him.’ I thought I was going crazy after that, but then, I started seeing things. I saw flashes of images. It was me running through New York City with some boy, us driving through some countryside, us fighting, us… dying together like in fucking Romeo and Juliet. I was surprised that this person wasn’t my boyfriend, but I’m starting to realize why it wasn’t now. 

     “You probably think I’m mad, right?” Newt said, abruptly cutting off the end of the story. Thomas could tell that that wasn’t the whole story but decided not to pry. 

     “Uh, no,” Thomas said.

     “You liar!” Newt said, a grin spreading across his face. 

     “Okay, yeah maybe a little bit,” Thomas admitted, chuckling slightly. 

     They sipped their tea in silence, staring at each other with a fascination that was strictly meant for curious and fond friends. 

     “Want to know something even madder, Tommy?” Newt said after a while.

     “What?”

     “I heard the same bloody thing as soon as I came up on that roof and saw you. They told me that it wasn’t your time; that your destiny didn’t end there; that I needed to help you. So I did.” 

     They sat in silence for a long time, bathing in Newt’s words, absorbing each other’s company despite only meeting each other only an hour ago. 

     Thomas burst into tears all of a sudden. He wept and sobbed buckets of salty tears, enough to fill oceans for stretches of miles. He shuddered big breaths, hugging Newt’s blanket closer to him. “Newt, I-I can’t b-b-believe it, I mean i-it’s impossible, right? I almost l-l-left everything b-b-behind! I’m s-s-so selfish!” 

     All of a sudden, Newt was kneeling in front of him, his hands cupping Thomas’s wet cheeks, wiping the tears from them like he had on the roof. “Hey, hey, hey, no! You didn’t think there was any solution to any of your problems, okay? You’re not selfish in the slightest, okay?” 

     Newt tilted Thomas’s head to look at him in the eyes. “Everything is okay now, Tommy. You’re okay.”

     Thomas sat crying for 15 minutes, Newt whispering reassurances into his ears until the tears stopped coming, and his heaving breaths turned into simple sighs. Thomas finally got a good look at Newt’s face for the first time since they first saw each other. He looked quite young for his age like he wasn’t meant to be living on his own yet. He had cupid’s bow lips, that seemed to be crafted by Cupid himself, high cheekbones that were a direct path to large, brown, endless eyes. His hair appeared to be in a constant state of perfected messiness. Thomas ran his hands through it; he recognized it somehow as if he and Newt had been together like this before, perhaps in a different life. Thomas’s hands were now on Newt’s cheeks, just as Newt was holding his. 

     “Is it weird that I feel like I’ve known you since we were kids or something?” Thomas whispered to Newt, his eyes darting across the blonde boy’s face. 

     “No, I feel the exact same.” Newt breathed. He took Thomas in full now. Each feature on his soft face was familiar. He felt compelled to it, as if they were opposite ends of a magnet, pulling each other closer and closer. They stared at each other in an intense silence, the air frozen around them. Time seemed to slow down until faltering to a stop. 

     Thomas leaned closer to Newt, unaware of what he was about to do. His lips fell onto Newt’s. It was an awkward, chaste kiss. Newt didn’t react at first, but when Thomas went to pull away in embarrassment, Newt moved his hand into the hair on the back of Thomas’s head, pulling him in closer and kissing back with more fervor than Thomas anticipated. Thomas allowed himself to melt into Newt’s slightly chapped lips. It was when Newt’s tongue was in his mouth that Thomas realized what he was doing. 

     “Fuck,” Thomas said simply, pulling away from Newt abruptly, then standing up. He put his hand on his head. “You have a fucking boyfriend, we literally just met because I was about to kill myself, what the fuck. Why the fuck did I do that?” He walked around Newt’s messy living room. It looked completely different now. It wasn’t just Newt’s impact he was seeing now, but he was seeing all the little things his boyfriend had left around the apartment. Guilt flooded through his head. What had he done? They could have been happy, and he could have fucked everything up. Thomas ran his hands through his hair, pulling on it as he stared at Newt. 

     Newt stood up, watching Thomas grip his hair as while he paced back and forth. “Hey, it’s okay.”

     “No, it’s fucking not,” Thomas stopped, facing Newt with his head in his hands. “God, I’m the fucking worst.”

     Newt approached Thomas, pulling his hands away from his face. “Hey, Tommy, no, you’re not the worst, okay? I kissed you back! Hell, I was the one who wanted to go further by sticking my bloody tongue in your mouth! We’re both the worst, okay? We’re the worst guys together, not just you.” Newt moved around Thomas, trying to get Thomas to look him in the eyes. Newt cupped Thomas’s cheeks. He must like to do that, thought Thomas. “It’s all going to be alright, okay? I do agree that it was weird that we kissed despite not knowing each other for long, but it felt right to me. And as for my boyfriend, I know for a fact he is currently screwing another man or woman, so there’s not much of a problem there.”

     Thomas paused for a moment, then looked at Newt coldly. “Then why are you still with him?”

     Newt was taken aback. He hesitated for a moment, thinking. “Because there’s a part of me that believes he still loves me,” Newt responded with an equally cold tone. 

     There was a pause before Thomas pulled away, sniffing slightly. “I’m sorry, I should go.” Thomas started to walk towards the door of the apartment. Newt grabbed his arm before he could open the door. 

     “Thomas,” Newt said wistfully. He pulled Thomas back to face him; he pulled the taller boy into his own space once again. “Stay.” 

     Thomas could feel Newt’s breath on his own lips. Thomas stepped into Newt’s space as Newt was stepping into his. “We shouldn’t do this,” He said at first. “We don’t know each other well enough. Minho is probably worried. We shouldn’t do this.” Before he could protest more, Newt’s lips were on his once again; his hands in Thomas’s dark hair, Thomas’s hands wandering the expanse of Newt’s back. Newt pushed Thomas against the door to his apartment, creating friction between the two as they kissed feverishly. Thomas pulled Newt as close to him as he possibly could, Newt’s thigh shoved between Thomas’s legs, their arms tangled around each others body. 

     Newt pulled Thomas away from the door, pulling away from the kiss at the same time. His hands were clutching the front of Thomas’s shirt, and Thomas’s hands were on Newt’s lower back. Newt stared into Thomas’s eyes. He couldn’t comprehend how normal kissing him felt; he didn’t understand how familiar Thomas’s hands and lips were to him, his mannerisms and the way he said things were so normal to Newt. 

     “Are you sure we have never met before?” breathed Newt. 

     “Positive,” affirmed Thomas, who was staring hungrily at Newt. “But it sure does feel like I’ve kissed you before, and I sure as hell want to keep doing it.” Thomas had abandoned all concerns had held previously about kissing this “stranger”. 

     “Maybe in a few past lives, our paths crossed and we were lovers once. Or maybe alternate versions of ourselves in other universes have been in relationships—“ 

     “Just shut up and kiss me, you weirdo.” With the crash of Newt’s lips on Thomas’s, Thomas was pushing Newt out of the foyer and onto the couch in the living room. Hands slid feverishly across bodies, lips and tongues traveled from lips to necks to collarbones, and downwards. Shirts were thrown into the floor, disregarded until later. Limbs were entangled together on the small space of the couch. For some reason neither of them understood, they knew exactly what the other boy liked. No one besides his ex-girlfriend and most likely Minho knew that Thomas liked his hair pulled, so it took him by surprise when Newt did it to him. Newt had been shamed by his boyfriend about his affinity for people biting his earlobe and collarbone (which Newt always thought was a strange thing to shame him for, as it wasn’t like he was into the really weird sex stuff), but when Thomas had gravitated to those areas as his hands danced across Thomas’s back, Newt’s heart leapt and danced in a sudden euphoria that shook his body to the core. They ground on each other, using the small space on the couch as an excuse to get as close to the other as possible. Newt pulled away from Thomas briefly. Thomas’s eyes were lidded with wanton desires, his pupils blown, his lips swollen from Newt’s own aggressive ones. Newt could see different versions of this same image flash through his brain. Why was this familiar? Newt shook his head lightly. 

     “Are you okay? Is this okay?” Thomas asked, slightly out of breath. 

     Newt chuckled slightly. “Of course it is. Just some deja vu or something.” 

     Thomas looked slightly suspicious but decided not to question any longer, as he desperately wanted to kiss Newt again. He leaned into Newt, quickly slipping his tongue into the blonde boy’s mouth. The two boys melded together, working together as one. Their heartbeats beat in time with each other as they slipped in and out of this singular moment in time. They felt as if they were transcending as their bodies moved in perfect harmony with the other. As they continued to melt together further through their intense kiss, every worry Thomas previously had slipped out of his mind and was filled with thoughts of what Newt felt like underneath him. 

\-------

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this is escalating quickly but idgaf  
> comment and give kudos or whatever if you please, i desperately need criticism  
> i'm adding some drama soon because why tf not and it's gonna involve newt's cheating boyfriend and shit  
> anyways, hope you enjoy  
> ry


	3. Hi, Just an Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an update on how the story is coming along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yes i'm real sorry, these things are super annoying but i wanted to justify my absence and make sure y'all know that i'm continuing this series.

Hey y'all! I'm surprisingly not dead! I am SO sorry for such a long hiatus, I've had a lot of school and summer things to do that have been occupying my time for the past few months, but I do have a chapter for y'all that I think will cover for my absence. 

I can't guarantee when exactly I'm going to post the next chapter, as I'm currently going through a Rough breakup and am not exactly in the mood to be editing a love story, but it WILL be out before September (hopefully). 

I'm so sorry for the wait, but something new is coming soon!

-ry xx


	4. III - Drunk Text Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas finally returns home after a long night spent with a new crush, he finds himself getting to know his friends a lot more after explaining to them what happened to him the night before. Thomas, Minho, and Theresa spend the day together telling each other about their lives and such until Thomas gets an interesting text from Newt near the end of the night.   
> Title comes from the song "Drunk Text Romance" by Cyberbully Mom Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........hi  
>  this is wayy too late but i hope y'all enjoy nonetheless  
> i finished this after telling my ex to go fuck himself so i was feeling pretty good so i hope it's okay at least  
> not beta'd because i'm Brave  
> xx - ry

     Thomas walked back from Newt’s apartment to his own at around 3:00 AM, more than five hours after he had originally arrived. Thomas barely got out the door as he and Newt had “watched” multiple different tv shows and movies, made some food, talked for what felt like hours, and eventually fell asleep in each other's arms for a little bit. When he originally went to leave after a heated makeout session that abruptly ended in the two arguing on whether or not the entire plot of  _ Captain America: Civil War _ was justified, and which team was better, Newt had pulled Thomas in for one last kiss before he left. This kiss turned into another, and then another, and then eventually laughing fits because Thomas miraculously managed to miss Newt’s lips completely and ended up attempting to make out with the air next to him. Thomas attempted to cover up for this ridiculous action by claiming Newt’s kisses made him act drunk. This made Newt laugh harder than he already was, and Thomas subsequently turned the shade of maroon of the sweatshirt that the other boy was wearing that night. Newt offered to make him some popcorn to soothe his embarrassment, and then they set out to watch the very movie they were previously arguing about. 

     Not even ten minutes into  _ Captain America: Civil War _ had they started to already argue about which Avenger had the best body. Thomas argued that it was obviously Captain America, as his ass was, like, basically perfect, and he was so toned in all the right places with a kind face and wide structure that was generally pleasing (“You know, like a Dorito!”). Newt countered that by claiming that Thor or T’Challa was the most good looking. Newt had said that Thor was basically a god, and Chris Hemsworth could practically cut you with his abs and jawline and that Black Panther was a certain type of lean-hot with an accent that Newt claimed was to die for. This eventually led into an argument about of the Hollywood Chrises was the best Chris -- Newt campaigning strongly for Hemsworth again, and Thomas arguing that it was Pratt or Evans -- before they finally agreed to disagree, and decided that Paul Rudd definitely deserved more screen time.

     Eventually, the movie became background noise to a hushed conversation held by the two about themselves; they were attempting to get to know each other better. Thomas hung on to every detail that came out of Newt’s mouth whilst stroking his tousled hair that lay on Thomas’s chest. Newt was from Southwark, England, he has a mother and a sister that he talks to, he goes to NYU and is studying physics, his boyfriend’s name --although Newt made it clear that he was planning on breaking up with him-- was Aris. He explained how he and Aris had met: they had sat next to each other during Newt’s first class his freshman year at NYU, and they had hit it off from there. Their relationship had eventually hit a point where it was never the same as the beginning. Newt didn’t feel butterflies when he was with Aris anymore. Aris was sweet in the beginning, and he still had his moments now, but he was mostly stagnant in most fields. Aris enjoyed yelling at Newt for the littlest things and then attempting to make up for it by offering good old make-up sex, which Newt always begrudgingly accepted in order to make Aris feel better. The way Newt explained his whole situation was absolutely amazing as well. 

     “You know how great Romeo was in the  _ Romeo and Juliet _ movie with Leonardo DiCaprio in it? That was basically how Aris was in the beginning. He was hot, romantic, considerate, and one of the only gay or bi guys in the area that I wasn’t friends with at the time, so honestly little old me thought that he was practically perfect. After a while, as I got to really know him, he slowly became like Earl from  _ Waitress _ . He became controlling and overly affectionate, and I got to see just how much of an absolute buffoon he truly is. He tries to control everything in my life, but then is currently cheating on me with the man who used to be my best friend. It’s all fucking ridiculous.” Newt huffed. Thomas nodded slowly, taking in everything Newt had spilled out. Thomas twisted to look at the boy sitting beside him in the eye. 

     “Why are you staring at me, Tommy?” asked Newt.

     “I’m sorry you have to deal with all that. You deserve so much more, Newt. So much more.” Thomas’s eyes were full of warmth and understanding. He looked at the floor, mumbling quietly. “You deserve so much better.”

     Two hours of pouring their hearts out to each other passed. Although, despite being complete strangers only hours ago, everything that was shared between the two was understood immediately. As Thomas wandered from Newt’s apartment in a lovestruck awe, he turned over every second he had spent there, from beginning to end. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his apartment: 510. He rummaged around his pants pockets for his keys, but to no avail. He stuck his hands into the sweatshirt he was wearing. He pulled out a few miscellaneous things before realizing this jacket wasn’t his; it was Newt’s. It still carried his scent: cigarettes, coconut, and cherry flavored Carmex. Thomas held the jacket to his face, breathing in deeply and then sighing happily. 

     He rapped on the door of his apartment. After thirty seconds, he checked the time: it was 3:24 AM. No wonder there wasn’t an answer yet. He knocked again and then waited a few minutes until a tired and fuzzy Minho finally opened the door. 

     “Where the fuck have you been?” he asked Thomas groggily as he ushered Thomas inside their home. He sat Thomas down on their makeshift breakfast bar, and began preparing two cups of tea. “Well?”

     Thomas sighed. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

     Minho glanced at the clock on their microwave. 3:42 AM. “We got time.”

     Thomas took a deep breath. “Ok so basically I almost killed myself by jumping off the roof but this really cute guy found me and took me back to his place for a while and I think I’m in love with him.” he rushed it all out as if it was all one word. He winced as he waited for Minho’s response. 

     “I’m sorry, what?” Minho exclaimed as if he had suddenly burst from his tired cocoon. His eyes were bulging out of his head. He moved to take the screaming kettle from of the stove and proceeded to pour the hot water into two mugs: Minho’s “World’s Biggest Jackass” mug that he got from his friend Alby for his birthday, and then Thomas’s own favorite mug which had “Shhhh... There’s whiskey in this” written on the front. Minho passed the mug over to Thomas and then leaned his elbows against the countertop opposite Thomas. “What did you say you did?”

     Thomas winced again. “Please don’t freak out Minho, it was a really bad day for me.”

     “Don’t freak out? Don’t freak out?! Are you fucking crazy? Of course I’m going to freak out!” Minho threw his hands up in the air, then squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you tell me, Thomas? I could have helped in some way.”

     “Not the way I was feeling!” Thomas exclaimed, feeling weirdly defensive. “No one could’ve helped me at that point!”

     “Oh, yeah, except some stranger who found you on the roof and took you to his house. No one could fucking help my ass.” Minho was seething at this point. Behind all the anger, Thomas saw his roommate’s eyes glisten. Thomas softened slightly. Thomas reached his hand over to where Minho’s lay and looked at him kindly. Minho’s gaze remained on the counter. Thomas opened his mouth to speak.

     A light in the hallway leading to the bedrooms flicked on. Minho and Thomas’s heads shot up to look at the silhouette standing in the corridor. 

     “What’s going on?” asked Teresa quietly, her voice muffled by the comforter she stole off of Minho’s bed.  

     Thomas looked to Minho and shook his head lightly. “Nothing, T. Go back to sleep,” Minho said calmly.

     She walked into the light of the kitchen. She stared through the two boys standing across from her. She faced Thomas. “Thomas, what’s going on? Why have you been gone so long?”

     “I was, uh, out at a party?” Thomas said, wincing slightly at his stupid response. 

     She looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t lie to me, Thomas. I heard bits and pieces from the hallway. What’s going on?” She sounded genuinely concerned. Her gaze was soft, hair sticking up in peculiar places, the thick comforter slipping off her slim shoulders. There was a fuzzy air around her like she radiated light TV static. 

     Thomas sighed deeply once again. “Let me start from the beginning.”

\-------------

     Teresa and Minho stayed with Thomas the whole night until the sun was up and the birds were chirping. At some point, they eventually all fell asleep on the couch cuddled up together. Thomas was the first to wake up. Teresa and Minho both had their arms around Thomas’s waist, Teresa taking up most of the couch by laying on her stomach, and Minho taking up most of Thomas with his legs on Thomas’s lap. Both of his friends had their heads on Thomas’s shoulders; Minho snored lightly and Teresa mumbled something in her sleep next to Thomas’s ear. He smiled gratefully at the two cuddled up to him, laying a kiss on the top of each of their heads. Minho stirred lightly.

     “Ugh, good morning, sunshine.” Minho groaned, shifting away from Thomas. He stretched and cracked his back loudly. His eyes shone in the late morning glimmer like light shining through an old whiskey bottle. 

     “How’re you feeling, sport?” Teresa said from Thomas’s shoulder, making Thomas jump slightly. Theresa broke away from Thomas, leaning back into the couch and stretching her arms up. “How’d you sleep?”

     “Like a baby, thanks to you guys,” Thomas said, rubbing a bit of the sleep from his eyes. 

     Minho had located his glasses. He never really wore them out much, but he always wore them around Thomas, or when he was cooking something. It made him look slightly less intimidating; vulnerable even. “Are you feeling any better? Do you need anything?” Concern laced his slim eyes. 

     “No, thank you,” Thomas replied. “I’m feeling a lot better. Thank you guys so much. I’m so grateful for you all being there for me.” 

     The three chatted the morning away happily. Minho tried to teach Teresa how to make an omelet and she somehow managed to launch part of her egg-whatever into Thomas’s head. They both cried with laughter at Thomas’s venomous stare as he picked the eggy remnants out of his hair. The trio continued the rest of their Saturday together. Minho usually had work these days, but he called in sick just to spend the day with his two favorite people.

     By the end of the day, they knew all the ins and outs of each other. They started with talking relationships in a cafe, telling stories of each of their childhoods while strolling through a park, despairing about their hardships back at Teresa’s apartment in the East Harlem area of Manhattan, and ending the day by exchanging funny stories and unknown facts in Thomas’s favorite underground bar in the middle of Harlem. The day went by so quickly that Thomas hadn’t even noticed that time had passed until he was walking out of the bar to a dark sky illuminated by tall buildings and street lamps. 

     Once they reached Thomas and Minho’s apartment back in Morningside Heights together, Thomas felt his phone buzz. It was a message from Newt. He plopped down on the couch while Teresa and Minho goofed around in the kitchen. 

**Newt <3** : heyyyyyyy babyy ;-)

     Thomas giggled a bit. He has GOT to be drunk, thought Thomas. 

**Tommy** : hey newtie how was your day?

**Newt <3** : it wouldve been bettre wih youuuuuu

     Thomas chuckled again at Newt’s poorly typed messages. He was most definitely a little drunk. 

     “What’re you giggling about, Thomas?” asked Minho, cocktail shaker in hand as he stood behind their little bar

     “Probably his boy toy,” remarked Teresa, looking at Thomas slyly from her chair across from Minho.

     “Teresa!” exclaimed Thomas, blushing profusely. “He’s not my boy toy!”

     “So it is him!” said Teresa, perking up with interest.

     “So, Thomas, if not boy toy, then what?” Minho said foxily. “Friends with benefits? Coital companions? Fuck buddies? Casual hookup?  _ Lovers _ ?” Minho imitated Bender from  _ The Breakfast Club _ with the last word, drawing out the syllables.

     “Piss off, Minho.” Thomas looked back down at his phone screen as Teresa and Minho chatted over freshly made drinks courtesy of Minho’s handiwork. 

**Newt <3** : Thomasssssss……. i miss youuuuuuuuu

**Newt <3** : come see meeeee 

**Newt <3** : u know you watnt toooo

     Thomas desperately did want to. Despite his full day being spent with his friends, he couldn’t get Newt off his mind the whole day. 

**Tommy** : you know i do baby

**Newt <3** : oh soo were at the baby stage now?? hellf ucking yeahhh 

**Tommy** : you’re ridiculous

**Newt <3** : yeah but you still watne me

**Tommy** : you got me there

**Newt <3** : fuck get up here nowwwwww pelsase

**Tommy** : what’s in it for me ?

**Newt <3** : there’s a fotrty and half a bottle of jameson w ur name on it 

**Tommy** : hmmm.. tempting

**Newt <3** : and a kisssss if you hurryyyy

**Tommy** : ohh i’m so in

**Newt <3** : yayyyy tommy s coming !!!

**Newt <3** : meet me on the roof in 10 minsutes or no kiss ;-)

     He looked over to his friends who were busy chatting away over drinks in their own little world. He could sneak out quietly if he really had to. Did he want to tell them that he was going to meet his drunk crush (Thomas wasn’t sure how to describe his relationship with Newt, but crush seemed the only appropriate term no matter how juvenile he sounded saying it) on the roof of their apartment building? Thomas grabbed a jean jacket from off the floor of the living room, watching Teresa and Minho chat away happily. He got up to leave and was at the door when Teresa noticed. 

     “Where are you going, Thomas?” she asked playfully. 

     “Uh, nowhere,” Thomas replied, grip tightening on the doorknob. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. He was supposed to meet Newt in five minutes. 

     “Are you sure?” Minho said, exchanging teasing glances with Teresa. 

     “Yep! See you!” Thomas rushed out the door without giving his friends a chance to ask any more questions. He had enough occupying his mind at the moment 

\----------

     Thomas finally reached the roof of the apartment, and it didn’t take long for Newt to find him. 

     “Tommy!” Newt slurred, getting up haphazardly from a picnic blanket he had apparently brought with him to the roof. “You’re here!” Newt stumbled slightly, attempting to make his way to Thomas, who rushed towards the drunk boy before he could fall over. 

     Thomas pulled Newt up to his level, and Newt immediately wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck, Thomas’s hands drifting down to Newt’s waist. Newt smelled strongly of whiskey, which surprisingly mixed really well with his normal scent of cherry flavored Carmex and cigarettes.  “Hey, lover boy,” Thomas said coyly. He gazed into Newt’s eyes gingerly and lovingly, as if he hadn’t seen Newt in years and they were finally rekindling their romance after years apart. The lights of New York City cast beautiful shadows that danced across Newt’s high cheekbones, leading upward towards his eyes. Newt’s eyes were glossy; his level of drunkenness was quite apparent.

     Newt squeezed Thomas closer so that the gap between them was closed. Newt rested his head on Thomas’s shoulder, breathing in deeply.  “I was thinking about you all day, you know, Tommy. Every second, I couldn’t get you out of my stupid little head.” Newt mumbled, his breath smelling of sour beer and old smoke. He ran a hand through his puffy blonde hair, gazing up at Thomas with half-lidded eyes. 

     “So, where’s my kiss, baby? I’m up here aren’t I?” Thomas asked, chuckling at Newt who slumped in his arms slightly. 

     “I really do love it when you call me baby, Tommy,” Newt slurred more, pulling away from Thomas to pull him towards his little picnic blanket by what looked like a very tall chimney. “Makes me want to kiss you even more.”

     “Why don’t you then?” Thomas asked teasingly. 

     Newt backed up until his back was pressed up against the brick lining of the chimney-like edifice. He pointed his finger in a motion that signaled Thomas to come over. “Come and get it, doll.” And with that, Newt was pressed up against the cold brick wall, Thomas’s mouth covering his own. Their mouths moved viciously together, as a desperate man who hadn’t seen water for days would move after finally finding water. Thomas pulled on Newt’s bottom lip with his teeth, a small groan escaping Newt’s mouth. They pulled away finally, gasping for air and smiling at one another. 

     “Come along, Tommy,” Newt said after a beat of silence. “Let’s look at the stars together.” He took Thomas’s hand and pulled him over to a small, plaid, and green picnic blanket that lay wrinkled on the concrete floor of the roof. On the blanket was a half-empty bottle of Jameson whiskey, an opened (and definitely lukewarm) forty, and a pack of cigarettes with a lighter on top. Definitely Newt’s spread. Newt sat Thomas down before plopping down in front of him, laying his head in Thomas’s lap. Thomas took a swig of the whiskey beside him, trying his best to suppress the pain he felt as it burned its way down his throat. The two stared up at the sky, straining their eyes for signs of constellations in the sky. Thomas watched as Newt tried to piece together the dull little stars into shapes and patterns, running a lackadaisical hand through Newt’s cotton candy hair. He watched Newt stumble over his words fondly, gazing at him like he had hung the stars in the sky himself. Newt caught on to Thomas’s silence quickly, glancing up into Thomas’s brown eyes. 

     “What’re you lookin’ at, Tommy?” Newt asked quietly. 

     “I’m looking at you.”

     “Why?”

     “Because you’re beautiful,” Thomas said, running his hand along Newt’s cheek. “At this moment, you are the most beautiful thing I could possibly lay my eyes on.”  

     Newt smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned into Thomas’s hand. “I want to be with you, Tommy. Like, ya’ know, seriously. I don’t want this to just be some drunk text romance.” 

     “I feel the same way, Newt,” Thomas sighed gently. “I just don’t want to cause you any trouble with your boyfriend by getting in the way. Like, what if you realize you still love him and don’t want to break up with him anymore? What happens then?” 

     Newt sat up, facing Thomas and laying his hand on Thomas’s jaw. “I can assure you, I may be drunk right now, but that doesn’t at all change the way I feel about you, Tommy. You are… I don’t know, you’re just something special. I’ve never felt this way with someone all of a sudden like this, you know?” 

     “I know exactly what you mean, Newt.” 

     They stared at each other, each with their own predicament running through their heads. Newt finally closed the gap between the two of them, kissing Thomas softly. It was much more tender than before, more meaning to it. They pulled away after a couple minutes, laying back down. Newt sidled into Thomas’s side, sighing sleepily as he nuzzled into Thomas's neck. They stared up into the sky, chattering quietly until Newt drifted fast asleep in the crook of Thomas’s arm.


End file.
